


What You Wish For

by Solstarin



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solstarin/pseuds/Solstarin
Summary: The War of the Ring is over. Not sure if you or Legolas is more happy about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> magic name tool is always here :)   
> http://nerddface.tumblr.com/post/154250926393/what-you-wish-for

If someone had mentioned to Y/N that by that time next year she would be standing on a battlefield, sword in hand, breathless in impossible victory, she’d have laughed. _I wish_. 

They say reality is stranger than fiction, but what happens when fiction becomes reality? 

They also say to be careful what you wish for. 

Y/N always thought she was a cautious woman; she always looked both ways before crossing the street, she never posted too much on social media, and she kept her dreams sweet, but realistic. In retrospect, it was funny how it all went to shit. 

Her mind always seemed to come to these moments of introspection indiscriminately. The elegantly carved wooden hilt of her weapon slipped from her sticky palm and the razor-sharp length of metal hit the dust with a muffled ring. She swiped her other palm against her thigh and lifted it to brush her brow free of sweat. Her sword arm quivered when she brushed her hair from the back of her neck. 

It was strange how sudden the fields came to a standstill. She felt as though something with the fury of a thousand runaway trains should have some other kind of conclusion aside from… swift, absolute halt. Not a minute ago, deafening shouts, shrieking metal, and thundering footfalls threatened to tear her head in half. Now, the pounding of her pulse beat at her skull and ribs, her adrenaline still a surging beast at the bars, filling her ears with only the sound of intense life. 

She was relieved, if not utterly exhausted. Every tremble of her overexerted muscles, every pulse that vibrated her vision, every heaving breath she drew into her lungs was a sign she had survived, that she would survive, that despite every odd against them, she could look— _look_ —at the dust, a safe distance from her face, and only spotted with her blood, instead of drenched. 

The gym was never this intense, she thought with a wry smile, and the machines never sliced her leg open. 

The calm broke as the living fell from the trance of battle, and Y/N’s neck protested as she turned her head to see the source of a pained cry nearby. The sight and sound of Éomer falling to his knees by who Y/N assumed could only be his fallen family brought forth the manifestation of the emotional trauma she knew would be an eventuality, though it was much more sudden and passionate than she expected, and within a single pounding heartbeat there were tears falling down her flushed cheeks. 

She was reminded how easily she could have been in the same position, and thought for a moment that perhaps she should have been more careful with what she wished for. 

“ _Y/N!_ ” 

She couldn’t see through her tears, but she knew the voice as the very thing she had to thank for the breath she drew. 

Travelling with the Fellowship, which was almost half human, had turned Legolas’s elven habits on their head. Their romance had come as something of a surprise a couple months ago, but it surely had done absolutely nothing for the matter either. As far as she knew, touch was reserved, generally not doled out in the same manner as Men did, but with how much fervor the blond tightly embraced her, no one ever could have guessed. 

Good thing, too, as her legs came to the end of their endurance and buckled beneath her, leaving her entirely in his arms. Her arms managed to come around his chest, though she couldn’t hold him back with nearly as much strength. Another crushing wave of relief washed her in warmth as she felt Legolas’s pounding heart under her ear and his ragged breath on the crown of her head. 

He murmured something in Sindarin, though she wasn’t nearly fluent enough to translate it, let alone in a place to think straight, even if she could. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed to her hairline. Her legs managed to hold her again as his arms left her, but they soon braced her head as his lips blazed a tingling path down her forehead and cheek to her own. Her heart skipped a beat before it kicked back up into a racing pace, and the tears that had stopped for but a moment returned. 

“Oh, _mela_ ,” her elf sighed, “tears do not suit you.” He pulled her close once more, his long arms steadily bracing her back and shoulders, face tucked into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “I am well, our friends are well, and you are well. We have won.” 

“I have your teaching to thank for that,” she laughed breathlessly. 

“Instruction does nothing if it is not received by the student,” he countered gently, pressing another kiss to her head. “You owe your survival to yourself.” 

They fell into a moment of appreciative silence before Legolas spoke up again. 

“This night, I will see you properly honored for your bravery.” He inhaled deeply, a thick tendril of his silky blond hair falling to brush Y/N’s face. “The only complication is I shan’t allow you out of my sight.” 

This prompted a short laugh, and he retreated to brush the tears from her cheeks. “I hope you know that you are causing me a great deal of worry, my starlight. It has only truly been once I thought I might have lost you, and I do not know how I should ever handle it again.” 

His mouth found hers once more, and then his hand grasped her own as he bent to retrieve her sword. “Come,” he beckoned. “Let us forget this death for a moment, and celebrate our life.” 

And in this moment, disregarding every superstitious warning, she wished with all her heart that no matter what may come, she may stay by his side. 


End file.
